


Roots of a Riddle

by Yewoqirife



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Canon Compliant, Dark Lord, Gen, Horcruxes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-09-07 09:46:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16851748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yewoqirife/pseuds/Yewoqirife
Summary: A boy with no parents, raised in an orphanage in the 1930s, held a great desire for power and a thirst to prove himself. We all know him as who he wants to be: Lord Voldemort. Journey with little Tom as he discovers Hogwarts, himself and thrives in the world of magic in a way he never knew possible.





	1. The Visit

**Author's Note:**

> This story is canon compliant to all official releases with the books being the primary source. Also considered as canon: movies, interviews, and Pottermore and plays. I will do my best to tie all the events together in a way that makes sense for the characters involved. There will be graphic scenes, character deaths and rape/non consensual relationship via a love potion (no explicit scenes) later. I will update tags as those scenes happen. 
> 
> Warning: This fanfiction is going to get very dark. Not just murders and torture, but diving into darker magics including creating inferi, Horcrux's, experiments in immortality and other cruelty. It is important to note that it is written in first perspective and will include his reasoning and opinions of these magics.
> 
> This chapter contains quotes from Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince, Chapter 13. These words belong to JKR, not myself, however I changed the perspective from that of Harry observing to Tom Riddle himself.

Footsteps could be heard outside the hall, but they were insignificant to me. After all, what did I care of what others did. So long as they did not bother me, their lives were not my concern. However, I felt my head turn just a fraction when they got close and suddenly went quiet. I waited, wondering who could be stopping right outside my door.

 _"Here we are"_ I immediately recognized the voice of Mrs. Cole, whose annoying badgering could be heard at all hours of the day, before hearing two quick raps on my door. She did not wait for an answer before intruding on my space and opened the door widely revealing a strangely dressed man who could not have looked more out-of-place in the dull and grey walls that have surrounded me since my birth. Beyond the lengths of auburn hair and matching beard, the man sported a bright plum suit that seemed to be made a thick, unfamiliar fabric and a bright twinkle in his blue eyes.

 _"Tom? You've got a visitor. This is Mr. Dumberton-sorry, Dunderbore. He's come to tell you-well, I'll let him do it."_ It was clear the woman had already begun drinking.

Mrs. Cole closed my door with a sharp snap, leaving the strange man with me and I glared at him over my book, hating him already for interrupting my reading.

Realizing that I had no intention of initiating a conversation, the strange man spoke first, walking towards me with his hand outstretched as if he was a business man at a meeting. It was obvious that this man had never been anywhere in the corporate world; he seemed almost wrong on the planet earth.

 _"How do you do, Tom?"_ said Dunderbore. I never did like touching, but this man's unexpected appearance and mannerisms intrigued me. With my hand outstretched, I grasped his with the firmest shake a could muster before letting go as soon as it was acceptable; I was not weak.

Dragging my always empty chair for "visitors" closer, Dunderbore took a seat, and again paused as if allowing me the chance to speak. I refused to oblige.

 _"I am Professor Dumbledore."_   Stupid Ms. Cole couldn't even get his name right as I edited the strangle name into my memory.

 _"'Professor'?"_ Of course, Mrs. Cole had his name wrong. She probably sent him to come check me out and tell everyone that I was crazy. I told her I didn't do half the things she blamed on me! "Is that like 'doctor'? What are you here for? Did she get you in to have a look at me?" My hand lifted, pointing accusingly at the door through which the blasted woman had left. Of course, no one understood me. I was special. I was better than them all.

 _"No, no,"_ said Dumbledore, smiling.

 _"I don't believe you. She wants me looked at, doesn't she? Tell the truth!"_ The familiar command left my mouth before I realized what I was saying and I felt my eyes widen slightly, but I would not retract the statement. I deserved the truth. Everyone always lied and I hated liars. Lies were obvious to me and a constant reminder of my horrid life, but thankfully I seemed to always be able to recognize them. It was one of many gifts I had.

The proclaimed "Professor" just continued to smile pleasantly and my resolved quickly died, but I would not yet trust this man. _"Who are you?"_

He leaned slightly closer as if sharing a secret with me. _"I have told you. My name is Professor Dumbledore and I work at a school called Hogwarts. I have come to offer you a place at my school-your new school, if you would like to come."_ For some reason, his words appeared genuine, but my skepticism still won over my thoughts. No one could be trusted.

Past whispers answered my need for truth and I voiced them, testing him and pressing for a reaction from his too-calm face. I leapt to my feet as my face contorted into a mask of outrage. Circling around to the door helped to distance myself from that liar. Of course he wanted to coerce me to leaving with him. He was one of them! He thought I was as crazy as the rest and there was no way I would ever go with him!

_"You can't kid me! The asylum, that's where you're from, isn't it? 'Professor,' yes, of course-well, I'm not going, see? That old cat's the one who should be in the asylum. I never did anything to little Amy Benson or Dennis Bishop, and you can ask them, they'll tell you!"_

My mind flashed back to that day on the rocks, but I quickly suppressed the memory. I would not show my fear.

 _"I am not from the asylum,"_ said Dumbledore patiently, his smile weakening ever so slightly. _"I am a teacher and, if you will sit down calmly, I shall tell you about Hogwarts. Of course, if you would rather not come to the school, nobody will force you -"_

 _"I'd like to see them try."_   Spitting out my response, the rage burning in me lessened to a low simmer as I thought of what I could do if someone tried to force me into any situation I didn't choose.

 _"Hogwarts,"_ Dumbledore went on, as though he had not heard me, _"is a school for people with special abilities -"_

_"I'm not mad!"_

_"I know that you are not mad. Hogwarts is not a school for mad people. It is a school of magic."_

My mind froze for a second before bombarding me with memories of my abilities. My eyes flickered to his trying to decipher his meaning and debating if I could believe his words. He simply smiled that annoying smile and watched me as I fought to keep my composure steady as my excitement built.

 _"Magic?"_ I whispered. The word tasted strange on my tongue, but I felt a tingle of anticipation travel through my veins and knew it was right.

 _"That's right,"_ said Dumbledore.

 _"It's... it's magic, what I can do?"_ The thought never crossed my mind, but I knew that I was special. I knew I was better than the other children and I had never been able to give it a name. Magic doesn't exist, right?

Usually, reading others and their intent came naturally, so this man's simple calm was so frustrating. There was no trickery in his eyes, but rather a curious peace and piercing understanding. Never before had I met a man that was this difficult to understand. Then again, perhaps it only worked with the ordinary and not the magical.

For the first time in a long time, I felt my control slipping. Generally I never allowed anyone the upper hand in the conversation. After all, that was how they could hurt you. Keeping control kept me safe and protected from the lies and manipulation of others. But this new nugget of information intrigued me to the point where my carefully built wall of self preservation began to crack.

 _"What is it that you can do?"_ Flashes of memories...Billy with his stupid music, little bronze coins, the rabbit, whispers from the grass, that stupid kite and Amy and her obsession with sewing.

 _"All sorts."_ Finally a person who might understand who I am. I felt the desperate need to explain to him how special I am and how much I was capable of achieving before lifting my voice above a whisper, _"I can make things move without touching them. I can make animals do what I want them to do, without training them. I can make bad things happen to people who annoy me. I can make them hurt if I want to."_

My feet found their way back to the bed and I looked down at my shaking hands remember all they had done to serve me. Clasping them together I covered my face and began to speak again.

 _"I knew I was different. I knew I was special. Always, I knew there was something."_ A small bit of desperation crept into my words and I sought after the validation I had searched for my entire life.

 _"Well, you were quite right,"_ said Dumbledore. _"You are a wizard."_

Raising my head, I noticed the man was no longer smiling, but that was no matter. My smile was plenty big enough for the both of us. However, the truth was not yet certain. How was I to know this was not all a lie? This man spun pretty tales, but there was no proof.

_"Are you a wizard too?"_

_"Yes, I am."_

_"Prove it,"_ I commanded with the certainty that he would immediately oblige. _"Tell the truth."_ The words were a command I had given many times before and the truth is what I was always given. People tended to listen to me, but for some reason this man was different. Yet again, my words held no power over him.

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows, seemingly unbelieving that I did not yet accept his story. He was used to being believed without question, but I needed answers. My heart raced wondering if I was finally going to find them. _"If, as I take it, you are accepting your place at Hogwarts-"_

_"Of course I am!"_

_"Then you will address me as 'Professor' or 'sir.'"_ Again my control over the conversation shifted and I felt a twinge of annoyance.

I paused again. This man would have me sink myself below him? After a moment, I decided I would play his game. Politely, I settled myself and gave him the most sincere smile I could muster saying, _"I'm sorry, sir. I meant-please, Professor, could you show me-?"_

The man, Professor Dumbledore, pulled a thin, dark stick with balls along its length a little longer than a foot out of his sleeve and raised it in his hand. With a tiny flick towards my wardrobe, he set it in flames. The fire engulfed the entire piece of furniture and I howled in rage.

How dare he! My treasures! They were hidden there! My furious gaze found Dumbledore, but as I opened my mouth to scream at him the flames simply vanished. I quickly took in the appearance of my closet and saw no lasting damage; it was as if nothing had happened! Impossible...

My eyes immediately focused on the stick in his hand, envy coursing through my vains. Imagine what I could do if I had one of those! My powers are great now through years of honing and practicing while everyone's backs were turned, but with this stick I could have real power.

_"Where can I get one of them?"_

_"All in good time,"_ said Dumbledore. _"I think there is something trying to get out of your wardrobe."_

I hadn't even noticed the faint rustling that was coming from inside my closet. My heart skipped a beat as I wondered what this man was playing at. Surely he hadn't found out about my treasures.

 _"Open the door,"_ he commanded. My muscles tensed for a moment as I felt the compulsion to obey. It was a suggestion and I could fight it if I wanted, but the suggestion carried a weight I never experienced before.

I walked across the room and slowly opened the doors hoping some mouse had just found its way inside and was frightened by the flames, but my heart sunk as I saw the rattling was coming from my treasure chest. My eyes flickered back to his, wide with uncertainty and all illusions of control shattered. How did he know?

 _"Take it out,"_ said Dumbledore.

I hesitated before reaching up and grasping my treasure chest, feeling the rough cardboard beneath my hands. I held it close to my chest and looked up at Professor Dumbledore with caution.

 _"Is there anything in that box that you ought not to have?"_ he asked conversationally, as if asking about the weather. He lowered his head to gaze over his half-moon glasses and I was struck by the feeling that he could see through me.

 _"Yes, I suppose so, sir."_ My voice was flat and void of the torrent of emotions rushing through me. What could I do to hide the evidence. Can I distract him? What should I -

 _"Open it,"_ he commanded.

I removed the lid and revealed my treasures for him to see, but I couldn't look at them. It was as if I couldn't see them, then he couldn't see the secret stories they represented. After all, they were my secrets and none of his business.

 _"You will return them to their owners with your apologies,"_ said Dumbledore calmly, putting his wand back into his plum jacket. _"I shall know whether it has been done. And be warned: thieving is not tolerated at Hogwarts."_

A battle was taking place between my need to learn this magic and my unrelenting pride. My eyes locked on Professor Dumbledore's for a heartbeat, radiating defiance towards yet another command. However, I want this power. The strength. The commanded respect. Once I have that no one will ever be able to command me again. I will hold the ultimate power and all around me will never dare to challenge me. This future victory was the only reason I could force myself to relent: _"Yes, sir."_

 _"At Hogwarts,"_ Professor Dumbledore went on, _"we teach you not only to use magic, but to control it. You have - inadvertently, I am sure-been using your powers in a way that is neither taught nor tolerated at our school. You are not the first, nor will you be the last, to allow your magic to run away with you. But you should know that Hogwarts can expel students, and the Ministry of Magic-yes, there is a Ministry-will punish lawbreakers still more severely. All new wizards must accept that, in entering our world, they abide by our laws."_

 _"Yes, sir,"_ I repeated. Let him think I will be the perfect child. I will act the part and be the best student Hogwarts has ever seen and one day I will hold the ultimate power and other - wizards, I tried the word experimentally - would be able to hold nothing against me. My eyes connected with my secret treasures and I grabbed them one at a time, first Billy's mouth organ, then Amy's thimble, Dennis' yo-yo, Lucy's button, and lastly Michael's ball. At once a thought came to mind that could ruin my plans for glory: finances. How was I to pay for school? I quickly voiced my concerns to Professor Dumbledore.

 _"That is easily remedied,"_ he stated simply, pulling out a small brown pouch that jingled with the obvious coin that were contained within. _"There is a fund at Hogwarts for those who require assistance to buy books and robes. You might have to buy some of your spellbooks and so on secondhand, but -"_

 _"Where do you buy spellbooks?"_ I interrupted, grabbing the sack absentminded and pulling out a large golden coin unlike one I had ever seen. The center was a small lizard-like creature with wings outstretched. A dragon perhaps? Surrounding it's body was an intricate design made from small raised dots. I ran my finger over the words at the top _"Unum Galleon."_

 _"In Diagon Alley,"_ said the Professor. "I have your list of books and school equipment with me. I can help you find everything -" 

_"You're coming with me?"_ I blurted out. I don't need help. I've been out plenty on my own...

_"Certainly, if you -"_

_"I don't need you. I'm used to doing things for myself, I go round London on my own all the time. How do you get to this Diagon Alley-"_ My words eagerly rushed from my lips and I could hardly stop the enthusiasm that was boiling over inside me, but I had to remember my manners in order to pacify this man, _"-sir?"_

I reached forward and grabbed the offered envelope and listened to his instructions to this place called the "Leaky Cauldron." Sounded like a horrible place to visit. Who would want to name a place out of a defective piece of kitchenry?

_"You will be able to see it, although Muggles around you-non-magical people, that is-will not. Ask for Tom the barman-easy enough to remember, as he shares your name -"_

I flinched hearing the common name and the hatred for my name that did nothing to tell of my greatness. My father was obviously an unremarkable man as his name was so... usual.

_"You dislike the name 'Tom'?"_

_"There are a lot of Toms,"_ I muttered. It was such a dreary life to be named for someone because people then expect you to act like them, but how was one supposed to act when their father played no part in their life? Wondering if this man could fix my problem, the words rushed out of my mouth: said Dumbledore, his voice gentle. _"Was my father a wizard? He was called Tom Riddle too, they've told me."_

_"I'm afraid I don't know,"_

_"My mother can't have been magic, or she wouldn't have died,"_ I muttered, almost to myself. Magic would have kept her alive if she had any, but what could have made him leave her to die and me unclaimed. _"It must've been him. So-when I've got all my stuff- when do I come to this Hogwarts?"_

 _"All the details are on the second piece of parchment in your envelope,"_ explained Professor Dumbledore. _"You will leave from King's Cross Station on the first of September. There is a train ticket in there too."_

I felt my head move in understanding and again grasped his hand, this time not letting go before asking one last question: _"I can speak to snakes. I found out when we've been to the country on trips-they find me, they whisper to me. Is that normal for a wizard?"_ Surely, this was an impressive feat? I watched his expression, but he seemed to just accept my statement and only his words confirmed my power to be special.

 _"It is unusual,"_ said Dumbledore, after a moment's hesitation, _"but not unheard of."_

His tone was conversational, but he curiously looked at me simply waiting before breaking our handshake and turning towards the door. He paused for a moment at the door, turned and sent me one last greeting before closing the door with a click:

_"Goodbye, Tom. I shall see you at Hogwarts."_


	2. Flashbacks: Discovering Talents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With commands to return his prized possessions, Tom reflects on why he has them and how he discovered his magical talents.

** 1933 - 6 years **

My stomach grumbled loudly, begging for food and I licked my lips giving my mouth the only flavor it had gotten all day. If only I could find something. People just didn’t have enough to share any more and we were lucky to get a meal every day in the orphanage. 

My stomach roared again in protest and I approached the nearest shop owner and gave her my most pitiful expression. It used to be enough to spare a small fruit or a roll, but this one just raised her voice and hollered for me to get away. Honestly, she was super scary and I just ran before she could hit me with the cane she held above her head. All I could hear as I ran away was “Filthy kids on the ribs, always taking.”

I was born in the orphanage, but I escaped all the time just to wander the streets and hopefully find a spare coin or two dropped by an unlucky stranger. The days I found something and could buy a midday meal were my favorites. However, it just didn’t happen often. Once another kid tried to sneak out with me, but she wouldn’t stop talking so Ms. Cole caught us and beat us proper. Since then, I kept my adventures to myself and it was far more pleasant. 

Like usual, I found my way to a small fountain in the middle of town.The water was not super fresh, but it was cool and helped my mouth feel not so dry so I greedily sipped up as much as my stomach could handle. After all, the more I drank, the less my stomach complained. At least it wasn’t empty anymore. Once I had my fill, I couldn’t help but watch the ripples grow bigger and bigger. They expanded across the entire fountain until the water stilled once more. A grubby face appeared, frowning deeply with big eyes and messy hair and a smudge of dirt across the forehead. I recognized it as my own and frowned even deeper. It looked like I had rolled in the middle of the street! 

Splashing water into my face, I did all I scrubbed blindly, hoping to clear the mess from my skin. While I was at it, I got my wild hair wet and smoothed it to the side. There was no way to make it look as nice as the boys with real families because it was too long and chopped far too rough, but at least I could keep it somewhat contained. While I ran my fingers through my hair, hoping it would lay in a somewhat better style, the water cleared again and I looked at my face once more. Much better. There wasn’t much I could do for my tattered clothing and thrice patched knees, but at least my face and hands were clean.

Slowly, I looked around and searched the streets for someone that could help. Many people struggled these days with jobs being had to get and not paying nearly enough, but those that fared well were easy to spot. Their clothes were tailored and had no patches. The ladies wore pretty dresses and the ones with the fur collars seemed the most likely to spare a coin. Especially if I could catch a few. They never wanted to look bad by not pitying a child in front of their friends. Unfortunately, none of these such ladies were here. However, there was a fancy looking gentleman that was leaning against the wall and smoking a cigar. If he had money to spare for a smoke, surely he was at least capable of more. I checked my appearance one last time to make sure I was clean enough before approaching him.

Experience taught me to approach the men differently from the women. Women wanted to pity the poor street child in need of a meal, but the men were not as easily swayed. They wanted something in return most of the time and since I had nothing to give it was no at all encouraging. However, my stomach reminded me that not asking was a guaranteed no and I continued onward. The gentleman took absolutely no notice of my at first. That’s fine, I used to feeling invisible. However, I made sure my words were clear when I finally did speak.

“Excuse me, sir?” Men wanted to feel respected, so I widened my eyes as if he was the most marvelous man I’ve ever seen. “Could you spare a coin or a meal? I’m awful hungry and haven’t had a bite all day.” The gentleman’s nose wrinkled in disgust as he realized I was actually talking to him. His expression made it obvious that he was not a generous person despite his extra wealth, but I held myself as tall as I could and lowered my eyes to the dirt waiting his answer.

“Boy, you best learn your place,” he chastised. “But you have some gumption asking so boldly. Clean yourself up and you just may become someone someday.” At the surprise praise, I couldn’t help but look up and meet his gaze. His eyes were narrow looking down at me and I knew my shock was clear on my face. His words brought a bubble of pride that started in my stomach and spread. My chest puffed out and I replied as seriously as I could muster.

  
“Yes, sir. I plan to, sir. Thank you.”

The gentleman reached into his pocket and pulled out a shiny gold coin and held it out to me. Eagerly, I reached out, but a wicked gleam crossed his face and he tossed the coin in the air, towards the street. With horror and determination, I chased it thinking I would have to weave between the people and cars driving along, but the coin had an even worse destination. As it rolled away, it suddenly disappeared and I fell on all fours once trying to find it as the gentleman laughed behind me. 

“Boy, if you can get that coin back, I’ll double it.” From his tone, it was obvious he thought I would not succeed and he was simply enjoying the little bit of entertainment he created for himself, but I clenched my jaw in determination. It had slipped down the drain.

  
Feeling a sense of loss for the coin I could have had if the man was not such a self-important jerk. As it was, the “gentleman” was a self-important jerk and the coin was far beyond my reach. I could be standing on my own shoulders at the bottom and still wouldn’t be able to reach it. The golden coin taunted me and my mind immediately started to replace it will all the sweets I could get, the rolls I could buy. This one coin could keep me happily fed for a week! Too bad it was beyond reach. My stomach growled again at the thought of all that food and my hunger stole my reason. My hands were still small and easily fit in the slot of the grates, but I could not reach past my elbow and of course that made the man laugh all the more at my pitiful attempt. Looking around, I tried to find something long enough to reach, determined to win the cruel game. A broom with a handle longer than I was tall was sitting unattended by the shop door. Quickly, I grabbed it and shoved it down the drain. Nope, still too short. 

I tried several more options, becoming more and more inventive as I worked. Once, I even was able to touch the coin with a bit a rope, but had no substance to make the coin stick so that little victory was lost. Not yet willing to give up, I found myself staring down at the little bit of shine as if my willpower alone was enough. My mind raced, trying to find a new plan and wishing the bloody coin would just come out already. After all, it would do no one any good down there.

Did I see that right? No. It must be some trick of the light. After all, there was no way it could have happened. Maybe a shadow passed causing the shine to flicker. I watched and willed it to happen again. Wait, there it was. 

The coin shifted ever so slightly. It lifted up on its edge and stilled as if awaiting a command.

But, how? My eyes grew wider than they had ever been before and I looked around the street stunned, wondering about the explanation. The gentleman had stopped laughing and wandered closer to take a peek at what caused me to look so alarmed. His expression reflected my own when he saw the coin below.

“What about that, you got it on the side! Now just a couple meters left to go. Best get at it, boy. The sun is setting soon.” With that last comment, he turned away and started walking away with his hands in his pocket. 

No.

He said he would double the coins if I could get it. If I was careful, that could be weeks of meals! I needed to get it now. In my frustration, I spoke out loud. 

“Agh! Stupid coin. Come here!” I stomped my foot for emphasis and suddenly the coin began to move as if it heard and understood. That blasted coin had a mind of it’s own and rolled up the wall and out of the grate as fast as it fell. A small _ching_ could be heard as it fell flat on its face at my feet and I simply stared for a beat before picking it up.

Wow. 

It’s _mine_. 

Then my mind caught up. By time I realized that I won, the man was already across the street and I took off after him as fast as my legs would carry me, the coin clutched tight in my first. My breath came out in short pants by time I caught up and stopped in front of him. He didn’t seem to understand what happened and tried to step around me saying, “Better luck next time, boy.”

Unable to speak with my erratic breathing, I held up the coin for him to expect. His eyes grew round as saucers and he looked back and forth between me and the coin in my hand. If I hadn’t been so winded, it would have been funny. However, I was able to finally catch my breath and I dropped the respectful meek child act I carried earlier. Now, I smirked, exceedingly proud of myself and my new talent. 

“Pay up, old man. I won.”

 

___________________________________________

 

In the weeks after I first learned my trick with the coin, I practiced constantly. The second coin I got from that self-important gentleman got me over a week’s worth of fruit and rolls and supplemented my diet. That week, I got to eat more meals than any of the other children in the orphanage and they took notice. The other coin I saved and practiced with, tossing it away and calling it back. It took hours to duplicate the command. It took days to consistently call it to me. Finally after a week, I managed to banish it away from me, forcing it from my hand to my bed across the room.

Ms. Cole approached me during the second week and accused me of stealing extra rations from the kitchens since I had obviously gained weight and my ribs were nowhere near as apparent. With my new talent, I probably could, but why would I choose gruel over a fresh bread roll, but then again she had no idea I had been buying my own food from the bakery down the street. No matter how much I denied it, she insisted it must be me. I later found out that it was Big Billy, the bully. He was the chunkiest boy here and was known to bully others into giving up part of their portions. Apparently, he took it even further than that. Ms. Cole never even suspected him. From then on out, every strange occurrence or bit of deception was blamed on me. 

From that day onward, I never had to beg again. I would hunt hidden places where small coins would be dropped and pull them up. I could summon trinkets to trade for foods and other goods I needed including books on subjects of all kinds. I was curious if anyone else could do what I do and manipulate objects with just their will power. Suddenly, fairy tales took on a whole new possibility and I wondered what parts could be true. After all, I had already accomplished the impossible.

Other kids called me cursed and I embraced the idea. Others called me crazy and freak and that made me extremely upset. I found little ways of getting back at them like leaving sand in their bedding or breaking a treasured possession and leaving it for them to find. Of course I was suspected since I became the scapegoat for all the bad things that happened, but no one was able to find evidence so there was an ounce of doubt and I had no consequences. The fear and doubt of others was a relief and all the others decided they no longer wanted to share a space. That was fine with me. Where all of us boys shared rooms before, Ms. Cole cleared out an unused closet room just for me. It was big enough for a bed, my wardrobe and a visitors chair, but not much else. That was find. The cramped space was more than worth it for the solitude.

Over the next year, I gradually was able to increase the size and control over objects. After all, coins and marbles were easiest being small and lightweight, but eventually I could call my book from across the room or banish my shoes back to rest by my wardrobe. However, I kept my talent secret. No one got to see it until I took Eugene’s yoyo. Now, thanks to that Dumbledore man, I had to give back my first trophy. My first memory of exposing others to my power. That’s alright. I would still remember and would make sure that he never forgot.

**_________________________________________**

** 1935 - 8 years old **

A shout across the room drew my attention and I dragged my eyes away from my book before narrowing them at the idiot causing such a racket. 

Eugene showing off as usual. He was tall boy, a few years older than myself and just on the verge  of moving up to secondary school. A small crowd gathered around the boy as he wiggled around doing some strange dance. The other kids cheers just deepened my frown. 

Really, the other children were so frustrating  at times. Didn't anyone else here study? After all, school may be a bore, but the knowledge was necessary to become someone. One day, I would be someone and the others that wasted their time and energy with useless games would know my worth far exceeded their own. 

Trying to focus on my book and block out the other children, I hunched back down. Their laughter was deafening and I found myself reading the same paragraph three times before the information finally made sense. Swinging my feet to the side, I stood and tucked my text under my arm intent to leave the room. My strides headed straight for the door, but came up short when something quick crossed my path. 

Blinking, I turned to the right to see Eugene had approached me and was standing, almost blocking my path with a bright red yo-yo dangling from his middle finger. It zipped back up the string, returning to its master. I merely blinked at the boy for a second before lifting my foot to take another step, but that blasted toy shot across my path, blocking me off again. 

“Where are you going, Riddle? Stay a while. No need to be a stick in the mud,” said the older boy, a huge grin on his face. Smug confidence radiated off the boy in waves. It was clear that the boy meant no harm and was teasing playfully, but that didn't stop me from scowling at him. 

“Move aside.” My voice was quiet, but I knew he could hear me over the racket of the other children. 

“Aww, come one, Tom. You need to get your nose out of those books and play a little! Reading is for old people. You can read as much as you want when your 30!” Eugene laughed again, his eyes crinkling at his own little joke and the others joined him, finding it hilarious. I didn't. 

“I said, over aside. Let me pass.” My voice was quiet, but I let leak a little bit of a threat seep into my tone so he knew I was serious. Apparently his skull was too thick because he just stepped directly in my path and kept talking.

“But look at this new trick! Just watch,” he chirped, eager for more attention. Dropping the yo-yo again, it swung forward, almost hitting me and I took a step back to dodge the offending object. 

“Last chance. Move.” My voice was full of ice as I glared at the older boy, who stood a whole foot taller than myself. However, he seemed too pigheaded to hear the finality of my tone and started to swing the bloody toy again. 

My arm lifted and I turned my gaze to the spinning wooden toy. It froze in mid air, less than a foot in front of my face. Gasps filled the room and laughter died on his lips. Pleased that the offending toy was stationary, I lowered my hand to my side and urged the toy to move downward as well. It lowered, inch my inch as every eye in the room watched until it sat on the floor, dragging Eugene's hand with it until he was forced to hunch over, a cry of alarm escaping his lips. 

“Much better,” I missed at the boy, anger squashed slightly by the satisfaction of his fearful expression.

He tugged on his hand, trying to pull on the string to lift the yo-yo, but I willed it to be heavy, more so than any of them could bear to lift. Starting to panic, he stopped down, his fingers wrapping around the toy in an attempt to pick it up. It never budged despite the obvious effort he used. Finally, he stared at me full of terror and immediately tried to remove the string from his finger, but I glared at the thin strand and willed it to tighten. The loop around his finger squeezed his hand and the more he struggled, the tighter it grew. 

“Next time I tell you to move, I expect you to listen.” The authority in my voice surprised even myself, but I bent down to pick up the yo-yo and the second my fingers wrapped around the offending toy, the weightlessness fell away and the tension of the string broke. Everyone seemed to watch me with fearful respect and for the first time I felt powerful. Holding my prize in my right band, I gestured with my left, nodding at the string now loose around his finger. 

There was relief evident on Eugene's face when he ripped the loop off his finger and dropped it, backing away quickly to put distance between himself and my path to the door. 

Without another word, I stuffed my trophy in my pocket and walked out the door. 

It was the first time I ever allowed anyone else to see my gift.

**__________________________________________**

** Present Day **

The red paint on the wood was starting to fade and my fingers brushed over the chips covering the toy from repeated use. Of course, it hadn't been used in over three years when I took it from Eugene, but the memory was a good one. All the practice paid off and I smirked at the memory of when others finally realized how special I am.  I slipped the string's loop over my middle finger, rolling up the rest of its length.

Of course the kids ran to Miss Cole immediately, but she brushed them off and chastised them for telling such lies. After all, what I did was impossible, at least to them. She never believed them, but they never forgot. All of those kids gave me wide birth and would immediately listen to any order I gave without thought. The thrill of such obedience was immensely satisfying. One day, everyone would respect me once they saw my true power just as they did.

Never before had it crossed my mind that those acts we're magic, but now that I learned the truth joy bubbled up in my chest until it burst from my mouth in laughter. There would be plenty of opportunities for new achievements and if giving up my treasures would allow me to learn more in this new school, than so be it. I only kept them around to prove to myself I wasn't mad and that they really did happen. 

I allowed myself one more minute of fond remembrance before standing up and walking back to the common area where I knew I would find Eugene surrounded as always by his admirers.  Confidence filled me, thinking about how I was going to return my prizes to their original owners. After all, this was just another opportunity to see the respect I earned. 

The boy was exactly as I knew he would be, lounging back against a wall, center of attention and laughing among our peers. He still stood quite a bit taller than me, but when he noticed my approach, he shrank in stature, eyes becoming guarded and filling with fear. My mind brushed against his briefly and found no hostility, only caution. Really, the boy was exceedingly simple. 

“Eugene. I have something of yours.” My voice was firm, but soft. I had no intention of causing him physical harm. All others melted back, allowing me to walk directly up to him and his eyes never left my own.

Anxiously, his tongue darted out unconsciously over his lips.

“You do?” His voice shook, but he tried his best to remain confident. He failed. My consciousness brushed against his own again and I felt his emotions, wanting to fully experience his reaction. Only confusion and anxiety. My only response was a sharp nod before I raised my arm up.

A small flick of my wrist and the toy shot out directly at his face. It stopped inches from his nose, spinning in midair, and his eyes crossed. Dread washed over his mind and he recoiled in fear. Silence filled the room as the few that remembered froze and those that were not present learned.

Unloosing the string from my finger, I let it fall, dangling from the yo-yo that was still in midair.

“You're welcome. Have a good evening.” At that, I turned in my heel and walked out, the fearful respect I earned floating through the stunned boy's mind. 

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews keep me going, so if you like it so far, please review!


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